Kidnapped
by Beka Rhade
Summary: Woody and Jordan get kidnapped, though things do not turn out as expected. Finished
1. 1 Year

I am really sorry about this. One of these days I'll learn to tell what order my chapters go in.

Rating: T

**Kidnapped**

**1 year **

Detective Woodrow Jackson Hoytt, dressed only in a pair of thin ragged pants and a layer of dirt and grime, stumbled forward as a heavy hand shoved him. Fire bounded through his body as his scared shoulder slammed into the edge of the metal bunk. He could hear the laughter, harsh and unforgiving. He rolled to the side meeting another rage of pain on the rough broken floor. A boot heel crashed down on his recently lacerated forearm causing him to thrash out oblivious to everything except the fire coursing through his body, and his mind. A staggering blow, harsh guttural commands, and finally blissful blackness taking over everything.

Surging waves of the almost familiar fire told him that he still lived. He clawed his way up on top of the bunk before reaching for the food that should be on the floor. His hand touched damp concrete, an upturned plastic cup, and nothing else. A very small flash of pain as his fist hit the wall, barely there.

He'd almost grown used to the pain that raged through his body. _They_ had attacked him for so long that he felt he was becoming immune to the pain. It was only his body that They attacked; They would never be able to reach his heart, his mind, his soul.

He waited.

The light grew so that he could see the recent damage They had wrought on his body, see but do nothing about. Then faded away again.

There was the harsh scraping of the door being opened. Woody didn't move. They could not do any worse than they already had. He didn't hear the expected guttural commands, but instead the harsh laughter but on a different note. He turned his head toward the blinding light in time to see someone shoved into the room followed by a course laughter. The person fell forward on the bunk across his chest where he automatically placed his arms around a woman.

A hallow thud rebounded around them as the door slammed shut, like the lid of a coffin.

Alone in their own black world the woman shoved away from Woody. As his eyes grew accustomed to the light again he could see her sitting hunched over on the edge of the bunk. He tentatively sat up and reached out touching her shoulder, her hair, her face now damp with tears. He didn't know what he expected her to do, but it wasn't for her to lean into his touch and move toward him slightly. He drew back surprised.

She reached out for him though touching his face and shoulders, sending a surge through him that he had not felt in a long time. The urge to take her almost overpowered everything else, but one thought broke in. They were both being held captive here, and she didn't deserve to be forced into submitting to the surge of what made him a man. He wouldn't do to her what more than one person had tried to do to him.

He shifted until he was laying down onhis side against the wall; letting her know she could join him, if she wanted to. After a moments hesitation she also lay down allowing him to draw her against his chest with his arms surrounding her.

Two men stood gazing through a clear panel on the floor.

"I told you he wouldn't do anything," the first said, gesturing to the sleeping figures under their feet. "He's to damn noble."

"He'll do something," the other insisted. "Now he's just feeling her out and getting used to company."

"Man, if she was given to me I'd have her in under ten minutes."

"You and every one else. I want to know why he gets her and we can't touch her. I could make much better use of her time."

"You and every other man here."

They both laughed a deep harsh laugh that held no good news … for anyone.


	2. 1 Year 1 Week

**Kidnapped**

Rating: Pg-13  
Summary: Woody and Jordan get kidnapped, though things do not turn out as expected.  
A/N: Do not ask me where I got the idea for this. I'm tired of answering that question.

**1 year 1 week**

Woody was sitting on the edge of his bunk forcing down the rock hard bread, and leather tough piece of jerky that was his standard meal; when he got one. Though being able to sit up and eat it was a recent improvement. They hadn't come to take him anywhere for awhile, which confused him a little. They'd come to take her away five times. They had just left him here and taken her against his strongest protests. The light had increased and then faded until it was dark enough that he could only see her outline. Which was when They returned her to him with a small meal that he'd silently hand most of to her.

Silence. That was how they spent their time together, silent. He was giving her the chance to say the first words. She wouldn't though and they'd lay down together holding each other close.

This time started out the same way as every other. She was forced into the room and his arms, the food was thrown in after her, two plastic cups of water were set inside the door, and it was shut with the harsh scraping sound. Leaving them alone in the darkness. By that time her arms were around him, then after a few seconds his eyes got used to the light and he could see the jagged slice on her cheek along with the increased shadows around her eyes.

He waited until she sat up on the edge of the bunk before fetching the cups and shoving one into her hands. Then he sat beside her and using the only extra scrap of fabric he had to clean the side of her face.

"Don't move," he demanded, and to his surprise she didn't. "What did They do to you?"

"Nothing," she muttered trying to duck away. Her voice pierced through him bringing up memories of the one person he prayed she wasn't.

"Don't move," the coldness in his voice surprised even him. He set the cup and rag on the floor before taking her face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he continued softly a little frightened by his own actions, "but what did they do to you?"

"Nothing."

"Stop," the coldness in his voice had returned. He couldn't help it he had to know. "What did they do?"

She shoved him away. "I got in a fight with a couple women." She got up and moved to the far corner, standing with her back to him.

He couldn't see her eyes, but her voice told him the truth. He got up gently touching her shoulder, "I'm sorry."

She turned slapping his hand away with a blow that bit deeper than any blow They had dealt. "What the hell do you care! Why do you give a damn what happens to me!"

Woody stepped back flinching at every word as they shattered the walls around his heart, driving deeper than any knife ever could. She turned away again with one last harsh, "why do you care?"

It took him a moment to regain his ability to talk, and to fight down the urge to retreat behind his walls where he wouldn't let anyone touch him. His heart won and he stepped forward again stumbling over his words like a child. "I don't know you," a deep breath: she hadn't struck out again, yet. "I don't know you, but I've seen enough," another breath. He was open and bare to any attack she gave. "I care what happens to you." He finished in a whisper that reached only her ears but would have shattered a steal wall to do it.

The silence stretched on forever, roaring in his ears like the waves at the cliff during a storm. Heart beasts slammed against the walls of the room like a sledgehammer. Time stretched on and on.

Then she was in his arms again, tears wetting his chest.

"Hey come here," one man called to another as he glanced down through the floor. "We've actually got some action."

A second man joined the first, "yeah right, you know he wouldn't do anything."

"No, she's the one doing it."

The second man looked down through the floor. "Looks like she has more drive than he does. You think he's straight?"

A laugh on both sides.

"I doubt it. Any real man would have taken her and dumped her."

"I think he doesn't know a good thing when he sees one."


	3. 1 Year 3 months

I believe this is turning into one of my better stories. Thanks for the reviews.

**1 year 3 months**

Woody wrapped his arms around her letting her scent wash over him as their sweat mingled. "You're perfect," he muttered into her hair.

She mumbled a reply into his chest that he didn't catch, but he didn't care.

The harsh scraping woke him as the door pulled open. This time it sounded different though, and he knew he wouldn't see her again.

When they entered to take her, he was on his feet striking out at everything within his reach. Several cries rang out, and someone fell against him. He shoved them away slamming his fist into something soft. There was a scream, a screech, someone calling his name, a curse, more screaming, a plea for help, sharp pains on his shoulders, his head, a blow to his neck, something in his stomach, fire raging in his groin, another scream, sharp blows covering his body, something hard behind his knees, a surge of strength, a scream, a blow to his head, falling, falling, a flat surface, a red boot heel, and finally, blackness.

The fire told him he was alive while the harsh grating laughter said he was awake, He was sitting on something hard, a metal chair, and his arms were tied behind the chair. Something tight stretched across his head and something else jabbed behind each ear. Another something restricted his breathing.

"Isn't he awake yet?" A harsh croaking voice on his right demanded.

"Kick him and see if he yelps," another voice, less harsh and far more bored, drawled. "You're the one who took the bat to his head."

"Ah quite yapping like a puppy. The idiots still alive."

"I'm saving my ass. If he dies it's on your head."

A sharp slap resounded. "You idiot! If he dies we dies, but he _will_ not."

"Hey calm down! I was stating a fact!"

"Well you can quite stating your facts because if I go down I'm dragging you with me."

Something hit the chair and Woody was falling again, opening his eyes in time to see the floor rushing up. White spots sprang before his eyes as a new fire devoured his head as the spots turned to a blinding light, and then an engulfing black sheet.

Next thing he knew he was upright again with two men he recognized from earlier beatings standing in front of him.

"There he's alive," Croaking stated.

"I never said he wasn't!" The other insisted.

"Whatever," Croaking looked down at Woody sneering, "comfortable boy?"

Woody didn't reply as he began marshaling his walls to block out all feeling, all sound. He retreated to the farthest, most remote corner of his mind where he had been safe before. Nothing could reach him there, nothing."

"Go to hell."

Those three words echoed through the empty halls of his mind. They shattered all walls they encountered triggering a flood of memories. Images, sounds, and feelings surrounded him. He could no longer resist what was going on around him, but was forced into paying attention a sharp slap filled his ears.

His eyes flew open.

Woody was sitting outside an interrogation room that held a man standing above a woman who had already been severally beaten. Jordan, it had been here. The mans hand was raised to slap her again.

"You will speak in a civil tone bitch!"

"Go to hell."

"Another slap leaving a deep red welt. "Where did you come from?"

Jordan didn't say a word.

The man grabbed her hand pinning it to a small table with one hand, and taking a spiked hammer from another men. "Where did you come from?"

She still didn't say a thing. The hammer slammed on the fingers. She remained silent but her face betrayed her.

Woody fought his bonds; fighting to reach her. He couldn't just sit here. Everything around him disappeared, except for one focus, save Jordan.

"CATCH HIM!"

"How could he escape?"

"HE'S TO DAMN STRONG!"

"HELP ME!"

"HE'S GETTING AWAY!"

"CALL BACKUP!"

"GET HIM!"


	4. 3 Years

Thanks for the reviews, and let me know what you think.

**3 Years **

Jordan gazed at the baby boy in her arms who was giggling and waving his arms around.

"He sure is active," Nigal said apearing in the door to the lab. "Even if he shouldn't be in here."

"I know," Jordan transferred the boy to her hip where he giggled again and latched on to her jacket. "What'd you want to see me about?"

"Well I have solved the mystery of the centuries, and it makes no sense."

"Who shot JFK?"

"No, who little Jack's father is."

Jordan stared at him. He was right, she didn't want to know the answer. She knew who she hoped it was, but there was the voice in her head that said it wasn't possible. She dared to hope though. "Go ahead, I need to find out who to sue for child support anyway."

Nigal gave her a small grin. "Well you gave the little guy the right last name. Woody's his father."

Jordan slumped against the wall not sure what she'd do now. She had been so sure that it had been Woody who had held her that year she'd been gone. Now the results of the of that time sat on her hip tugging at her hair, and he would probably never know his father.


	5. 6 Years

I just want to point out a couple things.

1) I wrote this back when i was actually allowed to watch CJ which spanned the time of every night for two months.

2) This is the last CJ fic I'm going to post.

3) I have no clue why i posted this.

Now I'll shut up and go read something else.

6 Years

Jordan paused before entering the hospital that loomed ahead of her. She'd had to enter many of these hospitals, but this time it felt different. It was that feeling of finding the answer to something she'd been trying to find for a long time right in front of her. She didn't know the question though. Except that is had nothing to do with the seven-year-old murder she was trying to solve.

She didn't learn anything, and two hours later started down from the fifth floor.

A scream crashed through the halls slamming into her leaving her breathless and afraid.

"JORDAN!"

It was filled with pain, loss, and need. It tore through her thrusting itself into all the corners of her mind refusing to relinquish its hold.

It sounded again followed by several crashes.

She was running, blind to everything around her. All that mattered was the scream clawing inside her head. Something slammed into her flinging her against the wall its weight baring her to the floor. Another scream pierced her mind from nearby as she locked her arms around someone. They were rolling around each fighting to gain a position of power. Scratching, kicking, shoving, and slamming against many things.

They she was flying through the air striking a door with a jarring impact. Everything blurred for a second but then cleared so that she could see the man in front of her. He stood not seeing anything for a second before letting out another piercing scream flinging away the two men trying to restrain him.

"My god," she was on her feet moving toward him, "Woody!"

A single voice penetrated the fog surrounding him. Striking like an arrow, slicing through the walls of his mind, demanding his full attention. Revealing as it did on ocean memories. His senses were flooded as pain filled his head, but in the middle forcing her way through everything was one woman.

His scream cut off abruptly and he just stared at her seemingly unaware of the men trying to restrain him. He shoved them away reaching for Jordan. She stepped forward letting his hand touch her cheek. His caress sent a shock through her followed by a crashing wave of memories of the other times he'd touched her. She mumbled his name again as his arms surrounded her warming her body as it pressed his. He stepped seemingly unsure. His eyes were filled with shock as he touched her. She stood with her hands on his hips trying to read him, to understand what was happening.

"Jordan," he croaked.

A sharp voice rudely broke through the silence around them. "What the hell is going on?" Jordan half turned to face the man, Dr. Filmore, who was stalking toward them. Woody recoiled clutching her tighter like a child with a teddy bear. "Why the hell isn't he restrained?"

One of the orderlies stepped forward. "He got out sir, and we were trying to get him when he ran into her. Then she called him, um, Woody, and well he hasn't done anything for the last half hour sir."

"What are you talking about?" the Filmore demanded gesturing to Woody who seemed to be trying to protect Jordan and hide at the same time. "He hasn't stopped screaming since he got here!"

"He's not screaming now sir," someone whispered.

Filmore whipped around to face Jordan and Woody. Jordan started to step away from Woody who made a strangled noise and tried to hold her tighter.

Jordan chose to ignore the doctor for now. Woody needed her more. "Woody, Woody, it's okay. I'm going to be right here. It's okay Woody," tears sprang to her eyes as she realized how scared and vulnerable he was. He was more like a child now than a detective. After some softer talking he finally let her step away. He wouldn't let her move out of arms length though.

"Mrs. Cavenough," Filmore started in a normal tone. "Do you know this man?"

"He's Woodrow Hoytt."

"And he comes from where?"

"Boston."

Filmore started to scribble on the folder in his hands, "what did he do?"

"He's a detective with the Boston PD.'

"Next of kind?"

"He has a brother somewhere in Wisconsin"

"Wife, girlfriend?"

"He's been missing for six years."

"He what?" Filmore looked up surprised.

"He was kidnapped six years ago. How did he end up here?"

"Here I thought his name was Jordan," someone muttered.

"So did I," a second person added. "That's all he's been screaming for two years."

"Looks like he has a girlfriend."

Stifled giggles sounded as Jordan noticed the crowd of orderlies and nurses that had gathered around them.

"Get back to work!" Filmore snapped. "Francis take him to his room, and Mrs. Cavenough come with me."

One of the orderlies came froward as everyone else moved away quickly. "Come with Jordan, Woody, whatever your name is." He tried to take Woody who shrunk back drawing Jordan closer to him and making a strangled noise.

"Forget it, bring him too." Filmore said striding away.

Jordan placed an arm around Woody's hunched shoulders and followed Filmore down the stairs to a first floor office where they sat facing him across the desk.

Filmore began writing on a legal pad right away, and after a while looked up. "Okay, so he has been missing for six years two of which he has spent here."

"I've only said he was kidnapped six years ago."

"I add the last part for your information. He was dropped off here two years ago without a name, or anything else."

"How can he stay here then? Someone has to be paying for him to stay here."

"I am not at liberty to discuss that with you."

Jordan leaned forward, she'd be damned if she'd let him get away without telling her everything. "_I_ worked with him for years. _He_ tracked _me_ down when I needed someone. _I_ was the one he came to when his brother showed up. _I_ was the one who reported him missing. _My name _is the one he's been screaming. _I am _the one who, just by saying a few words, got him to calm down. _He is_ the father of my son, and _you will_ answer my questions!"

Filmore cowered back in his chair trying to get away from her and to hold on to his dignity at the same time. "I don't know if he's who you say he is."

"Do you need a damn DNA test?" Jordan pulled out her cell phone.


	6. 6 years 5 months

Okay I halfway apologize for my comments on my last post. Shrinks are no fun. What I ment was this was the last Crossign Jordan thing I would post becasue my others are crap. There's also no need to review every chapter...on my other works. Also if anyone thinks they can help me with the last chapter I would really appriciate it.

**6 Years 5 Months**

Jordan opened the door to her apartment letting herself and Woody in. "I'm back," Jackson raced down the hall barely giving her time to squat down to pick him up. He giggled wrapping his arms around her neck; after a minute he loosened his hold on her neck and turned to look at Woody so Jordan took that time to introduce them. "Jack this is Woody, he'll be staying with us for a while." Jackson just nodded, but she hadn't really expected him to say anything since the doctors had already said he would never talk. What she didn't expect was for him to reach out for Woody; he obviously wasn't expecting it either because it took a few second for him to reach out and take Jackson from her. "Woody this is Jackson, my son."

Woody and Jackson studied each other for a few minutes. Woody brushed some hair out of Jackson's eyes grinning at him. "He's got your eyes." Jackson grinned and reached up pushing Woody's hair out of his eyes.

"Thanks," Jordan couldn't help but grin as she watched them. Jackson snaked his arm around Woody's neck laying his head on Woody's shoulder; she looked down. "They say he won't ever speak."

Woody reached out tilting Jordan's head up to look him in the eye then spoke softly, "The doctors also said I would never be able to leave the hospital. He'll talk when he's ready."

"Is anyone going to talk to me?" Jordan turned to find Lily standing in the hallway, "Woody!" She gave him a hug not noticing the identical looks of confusion his and Jackson's faces. "It's about time you came back around.'

"Yeah," Woody's eyes meet Jordan's begging for help.

"Um, Lily he has had a rough day. I need to get him settled in," she winced inwardly it sounded like she was talking about a little kid.

Lily noticed Woody's face, "right. I'll see you guys later."

Woody watched as the woman that Jordan had called Lily left trying to remember who she was. All he could come up with was a vague memory of a woman in an office that he wasn't even sure was her, "Do I know her?"

"You've worked together a couple times," Jordan replied taking Jackson.

"I can't remember," he looked around the room with only a vague feeling that he had been here before several times. "I don't remember Jordan. I know I've been here, I must have seen her before, but I don't remember!" Tears began to fill his eyes, as he felt helpless, lost, and alone, "I don't remember."

"Woody it's okay," she was in front of him taking his face in her hands. "It is okay Woody. You don't have to remember everything. It doesn't matter Woody."

"How am I supposed to face people I'm supposed to know? People, who knew me for years and say, say that I don't know them!" A fog began to surround him

"Woody!" Jordan's voice pierced the fog driving deep down into his soul, and sending a cool wave through him. "Woody it's okay. You don't have to remember them. You haven't even ever met most of the people you will see." He buried his face in her shoulder wrapping his arms around her crying like a child. "Everything's okay," she whispered. "Everything will be okay."

Woody realized he was sitting on the couch, with Jordan kneeling in front of him with her hands resting on his shoulders, when Jackson crawled into his lap snuggling against him. He wrapped his arms around the boy feeling that he was the last anchor he had to the real world. Just these two points of contact keeping the memories at bay.


	7. 7 Years 3 Months

Hey I'm back and thanks sooo much for the reviews. I can't promise I'll update faster cause getting a computer here is impossible unless it's midnight.

**7 years 3 months**

Woody paused in the doorway to Jackson's room watching the boy as he slept. If only he could be that peaceful while he slept; without a worry, without nightmares that caused him to wake up drenched in sweat and screaming. He pulled the door shut silently and started toward where his bed was set up in the living room.

_It was black, to black. A scream broke through the silence. He tired to run toward it but couldn't move. They had her again. She was screaming for his help, begging for it, and he couldn't move. Rope cut into his wrists and neck, holding him back, refusing with all its power to let him go to her. He screamed, he begged, he fought, but he couldn't reach her. Knives slashed his body, slicing his arms open when he tried to pull them free. He kept screaming and thrashing as fire ripped through his body and his throat began to collapse. Fire, pain, more fire was engulfing him, devouring him_.

Jackson ran out of his room, when he heard the screaming, to find his father laying on the floor in a ball, crying. Daddy didn't lie on the floor. Daddy didn't cry. "Daddy, Daddy what's wrong?" He tried to shake him like mommy always did, but he jerked away shoving Jackson backwards on to the floor. Daddy didn't push Jackson. "Daddy what's wrong? Daddy?" He turned to see mommy standing down the hall. He got and ran toward her, "Mommy Daddy's hurt!"

Jordan stared at her son for a second, talking with tears streaming down his face. He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her to Woody. Then she was kneeling beside Woody as he lay there in a ball shaking and sobbing. "Woody," he jerked but stayed curled up in the ball.

Jackson crawled under Jordan's arms to get closer to Woody, "Daddy are you okay? Daddy?"

One word pierced the darkness, trying to cover the pain. "Daddy." Woody stared up at the boy whose voice had brought him out of the darkness. The boy who had had called Woody his father. His Father. Father. He had a son. Father. Father

"Daddy!" Jackson was kneeling between Woody and Jordan staring straight into Woody's eyes. Father. "Daddy you okay?" What Woody saw in those eyes cut deeper than any knife ever had. Father. There was someone else for them to hurt. His eyes. Father. Someone else to get hurt. Father. Eyes; trust, concern, father.

He was running, running. No one would get hurt. Father. No one else.

Father.

Jordan found Woody sitting on the side of the road three miles away from her apartment, with his head between his legs and his fingers interlaced behind his neck. He looked up at her as she knelt in front of him. The tears on his cheeks began to blind in with the rain that started falling. "What's wrong Woody?"

"Who's his father?"

She couldn't answer that now. "You need to get inside."

Woody grabbed her shoulders stopping her from moving. "Who is his father?" His eyes burned into hers with desperation that paralyzed her.

"Woody-."

"I have to know!"

She couldn't think of a reply as lightening crashed nearby throwing into the sharp relief the lines of his face. She couldn't lie, she couldn't stall anymore. "You," she whispered. He broke his hold on her then dropping his head down to his knees again.

His next words were lost in a crash of thunder, but she could make out one word. "Me, me, me, me." She held him then. There in the rain by the side of the road she held him as he cried.

She parked outside her apartment but waited for him to get out first. He just sat there for a minute before speaking.

"I have to go."

"What?"

"I have to leave. I can't stay here."

Jordan didn't understand, or she didn't want to, "why?"

"They used you to get to me, and they still are. I can't live like this hearing your screams every time I look at you, now Jackson. It's too much. I still need help, but I can't get over this if I'm still here with you. I have to go."

She couldn't argue with that, but the next morning when she had to explain it to Jackson she wished she had.


	8. 10 Years

Hey I love you guys. I actually have an ending for this one. Thanks so much for the reviews.

**10 Years**

Woody approached Alan's desk tapping his fingers against the folder he held in one hand, "Hello."

"Ah you want to take my case for me?" Alan asked.

"No, I'm going over to the M.E.'s office. You need anything dropped off?"

"Well," Alan glanced at his watch, "It's about time. I've got a date in twenty minutes though so why don't you take this over to Jordan for me."

Woody took the two folders Alan held out. "Don't get used to this."

He got off the elevator into an empty foyer. The room really hadn't changed at all right down to Heather still being at the reception desk. He nodded to her and started back toward Jordan's office.

"I'll need to see some id," Heather called after him.

He returned to the desk pulling out his id wallet. "Sorry, I forgot about that."

"You-," her eyes darted from the id to his face and back several times. "This can't be yours."

"Trust me that is my picture. It was taken two weeks ago, and yes I am me."

"Right," she shook her head. "Do you still know where everything is?"

"I've only been gone ten years. I remember it just fine," He grinned at her before started back down the hall. Garret's office, Lilly's, Nigal's, the lab, and finally Jordan's. A woman was just leaving and he nodded holding the door for her then slipping inside letting the door shut behind him.

Jordan barely glanced at him from her desk. "The exits down the hall and to the left."

He grinned as a moved to lean against the corner of her desk, noticing as he did how beautiful she was. He tossed the folders down in front of her, "I just got here. Do I have to leave?"

Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head for a second then, "Woody!" She was on her feet with her arms wrapped around his neck drawing him into the best kiss he'd ever had. "Woody," she was breathless and her smile took his breath away.

He grinned down at her, "Do you still want me to leave?"

"God no," another kiss, "If you do I will kill you."

"Yes ma'am," Woody was dimly aware of the door opening behind him as he kissed Jordan again. Then someone barreled into his side throwing both him and Jordan down on to the couch.

"You stay away from my mommy!" Blows began to rain down on his head.

"Hey, hey," Woody twisted trying to grab the hands pummeling him as one slammed into his eye and another hit his lip. He managed to grab a boy's wrists a second before recognizing the boy they belonging to. "Jackson!" He and Jordan yelled at the same time. "Jackson I would never hurt her!"

Jackson stopped struggling with wide eyes, "daddy!" Woody let go of his wrists as he fell forward wrapping his arms around Woody's neck. "Daddy your back!" he pulled back, "I'm sorry daddy. Are you going to stay this time?"

Woody looked into Jackson's face and then at Jordan seeing the same questions reflected in her eyes. "Yes," this was what he'd come back for. He reached over drawing Jordan into the hug.

Woody watched Jackson sleep for a minute before shutting his door and going toward the kitchen. "How've you been?"

Jordan looked down at the stack of papers in her hands, "I don't really feel like you've left. You sent these didn't you?"

He didn't have to see the handwriting, or to read the simple heartfelt word written on them to know what she was referring to. He ran a hand threw his hair leaning on the counter. "My father left when I was a kid and was never around. I always swore I would never do that to my son. I knew when I first saw him that he was my son; it was in your eyes. Then I couldn't live with it. I tried but I couldn't. Every time I looked at you and Jackson I heard your screams. Just the thought of either of you made me relive that. Then his first words are calling me father. I couldn't take it. There was someone else to be tormented. I needed more help; I couldn't stay here," he took a deep breath.

"So I went to Wisconsin and got the help I needed. When I started working I knew that it was too soon for me to come back but I wanted to be here so badly. I did the only thing I think of in writing those letters; but I also thought I knew what it would put you through if you saw my signature and I couldn't bring myself to do that."

"I had to keep telling Jackson that I didn't know if you were coming back," Jordan said not looking up. "You'll never know what its like," she looked up pain, anger and tears in her eyes, "what it's like telling your son that you don't know if his father even wanted him. Telling him that you can only dream that he will come back. Explaining to him why his father couldn't go to school like all the other kids fathers did," the tears spilled on to her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Jordan," he reached out to her and she didn't fight. She let him draw her close as she sobbed against his chest. "I'm sorry, Jordan."

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Anyone gonna review? I'll post the next chapter when I get a review. please...


	9. Afterward

**Afterward**

Woody surged to his feet, cheering at the top of his lungs, as Jackson slid into home plate and the third base man caught the ball ending the game. Beside him Jordan was cheering just as loudly with a diamond glinting off her left ring finger. He slid an arm around her drawing her close as Jackson waved his hat at them.

He still had the occasional flashback, but all of that was forgotten as he held Jordan at night, or listened to Jordan's laughter. He was happier now than he had ever been.

Then it came; typed with no signature and no return address.

_Mr. Hoytt,_

_Our game has only just begun. We are not through with you yet and will return._

Bellow that a picture of Jordan, hanging.

(!#$&)

"No, no, no,no."

"Woody, Woody!" Jordan raced toward Woody. "What's wrong?"

"No, no, this can't happen NOOOO!"

"Woody!" She grabbed his face jerking it away from the letter in his hands, a letter that she doubted she wanted to read. "Woody it's okay youcan tell me what's worng."

"No I can't let it happen," his eyes held that desperate look agian. He ripped himself away from her racing out of the apartment leaving the letter behind.

"No, no, no."

****

* * *

This is the end of section one. In section two they will go on a quest to find out who kindnapped them, once it gets written anyway. Let me know what you think then i'll decide if I want to write more of not. 


End file.
